


Staycation

by Gulo



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Dirty Talk, Drabble, M/M, Of a sorts, Oral Sex, Rimming, Smut, Space Husbands, old married spirk, very light D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 18:09:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17585768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gulo/pseuds/Gulo
Summary: Most of the time Spock knows exactly what he wants from Jim. This time, he figured out that he wants the Captain to take command.





	Staycation

Jim had an apartment suite in a Starfleet building that he shared with Spock for a while now. At some point they came to accept that they wouldn't always be on the same missions together; Kirk training cadets, Spock doing a diplomacy, or vice versa. But they did share a home, and sometimes one was home without the other, sometimes neither and sometimes both. This shore leave happened to be one of the latter. But it wasn't much of a honeymoon yet. 

He was doing his best to enjoy it, but a damper was on it now. He maybe might have come on a little too strong, asking Spock if he'd like to look through a collection of explicit pictures and videos for inspiration. The videos Spock swiftly passed on. He did consent to still images, his furtive eyes flickering over Jim's miniPADD sidelong, never lingering on any, and blushing deeply the while. 

"So what do you think?"

Spock hadn't given him much of an answer, just that he would think about it. Jim pressed him for it no more. He was fine, really, having a cozy evening on the couch. First thing the next morning, Spock announced he was going to visit the temple uptown. 

What a bore.

So here Jim sat by the pool soaking up the sun, trying his best to forget about it all, and failing. He couldn't even fantasize because he felt guilty. Spock was making great strides to express himself, but maybe Jim was still trying too hard in this realm. Was he asking too much, even of his husband?

Spock's figure emerged from the kitchen foyer to the back deck. He was clad in traditional Vulcan robes, brown, copper, and gold silk, and had his hood pulled up to shade him from the bright summer sun.

"Hey, stranger. What'd you learn today in Sunday school?" Jim was wearing sunglasses, but he still shielded his eyes to look at his partner. 

"I learned," Spock glided closer, "that there are many interesting people in Berkeley. And they make excellent vegetarian food." 

Jim sniffed. "I guess that means I'm on my own for lunch then," but Spock stopped him from sounding too pouty by bending to offer a kiss. Jim grinned at him after, and lifted up his shades. "Miss me?"

"Of course." He said it non-challantly, before taking a seat on the deck floor beside Jim's chair. The robe of his hood fell back to reveal his stern, but also earnest face. What Spock said next shocked Jim. "I miss you every moment we're apart." 

The sunglasses didn't go down. In fact Jim perched them higher on his head so he could full on stare at Spock. Rarely -- _never_ had he heard the Vulcan speak so poetically. He blinked and let a moment pass, and when he was certain he hadn't just imagined it, simply replied, "And I you, Spock."

Spock met his appraisal with eyes that glittered from the reflected sunlight off the pool, and his heart skipped. He expected Spock to come back morose, pensive... he could never forget the way Spock looked, that day several years ago when he returned onboard the _Enterprise_ from his hermitage. But Spock was doing better since then. Much better. 

Was it time to politely avert his eyes? To say something to break the silence? No, neither. Jim realized Spock was searching his eyes for something, searching for his own words. So Jim let him look. Spock did not have this same luxury of casualness, so Jim took advantage of it whenever he could: he reached to brush his knuckles against Spock's cheek to feel its warmth. 

Usually when he did this, Spock was peacefully still, sometimes his eyes would close so he could focus on the touch. This time he held his gaze, and nuzzled against Jim's hand. 

Jim turned the hand, spread his fingers, cupped Spock's jaw, and caressed up to his eartip. As his hand came back down, he let the thumb just graze his lips, where they slightly parted. Only then did Spock's eyes slip closed. 

"What's on your mind, Spock? What do you want to say to me?" Jim's voice could not have been gentler. It was precisely because Jim was so extraordinarily patient with him that Spock yearned, ached to share himself. 

"I want to submit to you," he whispered.

Jim nearly did a double-take. He shifted his weight and sat forward in his beach chair so he could put his face close to Spock's and murmured his reply. "So you did get some ideas from last night."

"They... are... ideas I've had before. Perhaps... forgotten. And you reminded me of them."

"You're not the forgetful type, Spock," the Captain did not bother to hide a little grin. "Don't be shy. Go on." 

Spock was blushing. Now he shot Jim a look of mock consternation, which Jim let roll off his back. But appropriate to the situation, he removed his hand from Spock's shoulder and shifted his weight so he was sitting in the lawn chair very much like he would have with his chair on the _Enterprise_ bridge. Clearly it stirred something in the Vulcan, who seemed suddenly overcome, and pressed his forehead into the warm, damp, command-green swimming trunks of Jim's thigh. 

Jim was ecstatic. This was so good. He'd scarcely seen Spock so relaxed and open. He decided words were unnecessary. The sun felt perfect, he had absolutely nothing to worry about, and Spock was right there at his foot, letting him pet the dark hair and pointed ears. He put his sunglasses down again and basked in it. 

Presently he felt a hand run up his leg. It was almost ticklish, only because it was unexpected, but Jim abided. The Vulcan's hand was hot, each fingerpad seeming to scan the curves it caressed for muted, stray notes of telepathic quality. Spindly fingers made their way up, glided over a fuzzy and tanned knee, and rested for a moment on top of the other thigh. It seemed to take ages, but Spock's hand drifted over Kirk's girthy middle with a kind of reverence, and finally, just teased the top edge of the trunks' elastic waistband with what could only be curiosity. 

His shades still on, Captain Kirk stood up and made no fuss of pulling down and kicking off the trunks, and resumed his seat with a happy smile. He folded his hand over Spock's other where it gripped the chair arm, their fingers loosely mingling. Spock watched, enthralled, as Kirk's penis jumped to life in his hand. He had to shift his weight now too, shimmying closer, getting a leg under him so he could sit up somewhat, and bend forward to nuzzle the throbbing member. 

Jim's toes curled. He loved getting any kind of attention, but attention from Spock was double-the-flattery. He could not have felt better or more turned on, with the hot sun beating down and Spock's touch teasing him to hardness. The Vulcan's wet lips mouthed slow, squeezing kisses on his flesh. He cupped his sack in the most satisfying way. And best of all, Spock did all this with a look in his eye that was worshipful, if ever so slightly shy. 

Jim kept his shades down, straightened his spine to move forward. He interrupted Spock with a kiss, a long one, tender but exploratory. Spock could just see the outline of his eyes past the tinted shades, but not being able to make full contact seemed... comfortable enough, for him. Perhaps even strangely alluring. Just kissing made Jim's erection jump in the Vulcan's tugging hand. 

"Spock," Kirk said in a voice that was not quite gentle, much closer to the confidence of his conn voice. "Suck my dick."

A shade of lust crossed Spock's face. They may as well have been magic words. His knees would have buckled, if they weren't already under him. He was right there, on his knees, right now, just like he had always wanted to be. "Yes, Captain." Not exactly Spock's bridge voice, the way it trembled. His lips brushed once more before closing, and tasting, then licking and lapping, suckling in. 

Still hovering over, Jim rewarded him with a hot-breathed, stuttering moan. Despite the dalliances of his youth, it had been a _really_ long time. And although this was a first for Spock, he had some aptitude for it. He was letting instinct guide him, and that was incredibly, inexplicably hot. 

Next to his pointed bobbing ear Kirk muttered, "You love your Captain, don't you, Spock? Good... Good."

He felt Spock's fingers squeeze his grip tightly. He was breathing heavily around his mouthful, and making tiny noises of excitement. At some point, Jim realized Spock's other hand was MIA. He pressed a kiss to a pointed eartip. "Are you touching yourself?"

Trembling harder, Spock made the effort to nod. Jim was reeling a bit, mad with excitement. He had to sit back and slump in the chair, legs fully extended; then, spine arching, as Spock worked hard to do him justice, gulping down with an almost desperate hunger in his Captain's release. 

"Uhhfffuck. Good work... Mister Spock." Jim was so dazed, he barely remembered to stay in character with the appellation. 

Spock watched over him briefly as he recovered. But not long after, the Vulcan lay back on the hot deck boards, and had pulled aside his glittering robes, to take his own flesh in his hand and pump it nakedly before his husband in an unprecedented act of exhibitionism.

Jim felt like he could get a second hard-on in no time just watching. Now that hadn't happened in a while. But it was so hot watching Spock's bare toes dangle in the pool water, come up splashing now and then. He was astonished at the vigor with which he moved his hand, and in the other, gripped his base and balls. Jim licked his lips, finally threw his glasses aside, and got up and back down, now on the ground to take Spock's silken hakama-like garment and slide it all the way off, along with anything underneath, to discard them on a drier part of the deck. It was incredible to see Spock this turned on and mostly-naked, top open and wearing only the long duster part of the robe, like some beautiful courtesan enamored with him.

Jim took his lover's rear in both hands, spread his thighs far apart, and pressed his face under Spock's pelvis to deliver a long and lewd lick to the Vulcan's hole. 

Spock startled. "J-Jim, you don't --"

"I know damn well how clean you are. Now, enjoy this." Captain Kirk. Supremely confident, sometimes even cavalier in his command. Spock's protests were silenced, he could only moan, whimper, and finally cry out as Jim's tongue probed his most private place, and orgasmed hard enough to make himself see stars swim behind his eyes. 

They lazed by the pool together until the real stars began to show, and Jim's stomach growled. "I will cook dinner tonight," Spock offered. 

"Wow! You do spoil me today." Jim gave Spock's bum a playful swat. "Well, hop to it. You've already got a meal on me, I'm hungry!"

"Do not... push your luck." Spock tilted his nose up with an air of snootiness as he tied his robes back around himself, using a new expression. Jim just laughed after him, and followed him inside.

~<3~


End file.
